In that novel Highway To Oblivion  (It all comes back to my book.  Without fail.)  my main character is a poet who, when confronting her own mortality, must summon the courage to evaluate her life.

                     "Let me sit in the light
                    and look into the dark
                    and examine the corners."

Many times that last line has flitted into my mind when I sorely needed it.  I, among the most ultimately arrogant of beings, find that when my brain searches for comforting words, I often unknowingly choose my own.  I say, Oh, how true.  Who wrote that?  And then I discover, why I did! 

Poems are sustenance within us, grow as we grow, become us, and we are the richer for the becoming.  Regardless of the source.

(NB:  Please do not hate me for my ego.  I noted that all my favorite poems were already taken and eloquently commented upon by others, so I have turned to my own poor fare.)